It is hard for me to reconcile these feelings and I don't know if my paltry little attempt at putting them to words do them justice - I was and am glad to see you again. Just to have seen you should have been enough but I recognize that I had needs as well and as much as the touching and kissing as good for you, it was amazing for me. What doesn't make me feel good is that you feel terrible about it and yourself afterwards. I know nothing I can say does or should take away from how you feel, but I am simply tiring of hearing later that my attempts at trying to make you feel good, makes you hate it afterwards. Not only does it place a negative value on my attempt to express my love in the only little physical way that you let me, but it now also makes me feel absurdly horrid for making you feel ugly or somehow makes you feel cheap or dirty. I have never been told that my caress have made anyone feel bad and I don't know how to be another way. It is perhaps my fault that I haven't learnt to discipline myself in the wake of announcing my love but I am confronted with a woman (you) that isn't able and I'm increasingly thinking doesn't want or need the added attntion.
I exist everyday wondering and hoping that I will never hear you call to say that you don't really want to talk to me anymore since I am not capable of simply talking to you and not holding you, that it would be best if we stayed away from each other just so you can work on your relationship free of thoughts elsewhere. That fear is well hidden in the back of my mind but is brightly coloured so as not to be missed. Why do I continue? It's difficult to pinpoint exactly why, but I can say that I love you. Really. I love that you're warm and easy to talk to and easy to be comfortable with, verbally and physically. I'd endure endless walks in the rainy nights with you when all the shops have closed - as long as I have just one last chance to hold your hand. I suppose that's the reason there - I don't know when of these "ugly" experiences for you will be my last chance for me to show you my love and passion, and so I treat them all with the intensity and fervour that I must place on them in order for me to be satisfied that you will one day look back and perhaps remember me a little. I'd hate to go through this one life only to have nothing for anyone to remember me by than a pile of debts and a lot of work and pain and some useless material things. That would make me saddest of all - and I think that's part of why I think having children is great.
You already know that I think you're wonderful in as many ways that that can be described. I didn't say that you're perfect - but you are warm and loving and caring and deserving of better. I can't offer you much other than myself. Everything else is temporal. Me, myself and I, foibles and faults, good and bad, personalities, arrogance and passion make me and is truly all that I can offer that is mine by thought, word, deed, experience and faith. I have much to learn but truly hope that you will insist on passion in everything. I can only show you how passion and love from me is - would be - I don't know. I do know that it hurts me to hear that you feel bad for "allowing" yourself to feel into it. I take responsibility for my actions and try not to apologize for too many of them - but end up doing it all the same. I wish I could help you but I am sure that I am not tiring of holding your hand or resting my head in the shallow of your shoulder.
What is love if not a little painful? And it pains me to know that you feel dreadful from something that bring me great joy and pleasure. I can only hope and wish that you will someday learn to do it for yourself. I am tired.
Thank you again for the porridge and I will be working all weekend and hoping that my physical illness leaves me soon. Have a wonderful weekend and please know that I will love you. Always is a long time, but if I've waited this long, what's a few more decades? Be well and at peace. But be most of all happy.
